The dirt between his fingernails
by P-Y-Z-K
Summary: Jeff the Killer decides to visit his parents' and Liu's tombs, however the ghosts will always be there to haunt him... quite literally.


It was a dark, dark night. The wind howled between tree's branches, there wasn't any single star in the sky (maybe because of the pollution), the moon was nowhere to be found, it was cold and the owls were very awake. That could only mean one thing: death.

Have you ever heard that owls could smell when death was coming?

Maybe that was the reason Jeff was, for once, outside without the intention of killing.

His bloodlust was satisfied since a few hours ago, when the sudden urge to see the guts and hear the screams of someone had appeared. He proceeded to find a human being, a young man who was coming to his home. Jeff stabbed him mercilessly on the chest, chopped the corpse piece by precious piece and burned it on the chimney on the man's house. He stole whatever that had some value, money and grabbed food from the fridge before leaving.

It didn't matter, the FBI was searching for him after all, but they couldn't find him.

And after the murder, Jeff felt something more. Something he couldn't describe, or express.

Something that haven't bothered him since he was thirteen years old and he killed his own family.

He felt like seeing his parents and Liu. He couldn't, but he felt like it.

Lucky him, the town where he splattered the blood of his own family was near of the place he was. Just a few hours driving.

He came back to the house of the dead man, and took the keys of his car.

—I'm just borrowing it.— Jeff said to himself. —He won't need it, after all.

Jeff started laughing like it was one of the funniest things he ever heard.

And Jeff started his journey.

...

It was around two AM when he finally arrived to the graveyard his parents and brother were buried in.

He didn't bother on entering by the front door, he wanted to avoid any problem and he knew he would surely cause them if he chose that.

Grabbing his own butcher knife, Jeff started searching for the names _Peter_ _Woods,_ _Margaret_ _Woods_ and _Liu_ _Woods._

He walked and walked and _walked_ until he found what he was searching for.

 _Peter_ _Woods_

 _A_ _loving_ _son,_ _father_ _and_ _husband._

 _February_ _23th 1967-July_ _12th 2010_

 _«A_ _pity.»_ Jeff thought when he saw just one white rose on the tomb, withering.

Then he saw the gravestone of the person who gave him life. Who raised, loved and cared for him. The person whose life was stolen from her by her own son, by the blood of her blood.

Jeff felt nothing when he saw it. The guilt faded many years ago. Besides, nothing he did could bring her back to life.

 _Margaret_ _Woods_

 _Because_ _the_ _most_ _beautiful_ _flowers_ _are_ _just_ _seen_ _once_ _in_ _life._

 _September_ _14th 1971-July_ _12th 2010_

He saw the ugly, fake daisies on a pot that was placed at the side of the tomb. Jeff thought they just resembled of him, a fake thing. At least, he was still beautiful. He'll always be.

And the time of seeing Liu's grave came. However, this grave wasn't there or anywhere near Margaret and Peter's tombs.

—Hiding again, huh big brother? You believe that still on the afterlife you can hide from me?

He searched on all of the graves, seeing if there was a _Liu_ _Woods_ on it.

But Liu's tomb wasn't there.

Liu was dead. Jeff was sure of it. He'd like to be sure about it.

No.

He was fucking sure Liu Woods, his good for nothing sibling, was dead, was drowning on its own putrid smell and rotting corpse, six feet below the ground.

So, maybe Liu was buried on the same place as his mother! Maybe even on the same coffin!

He took a rock and started smashing the marble on Margaret's tombstone, causing it to break like glass.

Jeff was possesed by a burning rage on his veins and a big confusion on his head.

He imagined the marble and stone were a body, it gave him strength to keep going on breaking it.

Liu must be inside. Liu was fucking inside.

Once he had enough space for his hand to fit, he started removing slowly the earth and worms that were on Margaret's coffin.

First, it was slowly. The it became more desperate, nervous, anxious.

His fingers were bleeding, and a mix of dirt and blood was stuck between his fingernails.

And not a sign of Liu's corpse.

Jeff was panicking, where in the world was Liu?

Liu was dead, right?

—Where the fuck are you?! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU, LIU?!— He screamed to the air, but no one heard.

Jeff started to dig with his bare hands on his parent's tombs, between the stone, the marble and the dirt.

He found the wooden coffin of Margaret Woods, he opened it.

A horrible smell hitted him but he didn't care.

He then found the rotten corpse of his mother, that was just a gross thing that resembled flesh and was thin skin, covering her bones.

And Liu wasn't there.

Liu was supposed to be there. Rotting in earth, worms eating his flesh.

Right?! RIGHT?!

Jeff wasn't insane. He swore that night he saw life leaving Liu's body. He heard his heart stopping. _He_ _fucking_ _bathed_ _in_ _his_ _guts_ _and_ _blood._

 _«Oh, oh,_ _don't_ _tell_ _me_ _that_ _little_ _Jeffy_ _is_ _scared!»_ Said a voice inside his head.

He heard those voices all the time. He was used to it now. Sometimes he would have talks with the voices. Other times they were so fucking _loud_ , _obnoxious_ and _annoying_ he would told them to shut their mouths.

—Shut the fuck up!— Jeff shouted in the silence of the night. —Nobody wants to hear you! Shut up!

He was grunting loudly, and screaming at times.

He breathed. In. Out. You are Jeff the Killer. You are beautiful. You don't get hurt, _you_ _hurt_.

 _«Ow,_ _but_ _you're_ _the_ _one_ _that's_ _hurting_ _himself, so_ _it's_ _the_ _same_ _stupid_ _thing!_ _Jeffery_ _Woods...»_

—SHUT THE HELL UP! MY NAME IS JEFF THE KILLER!

He saw his mother (well, his body) sitting up straight. She smiled while an eye was falling off her face.

—Do you want me to make some cookies, dear?— Worms were falling out of Margaret's mouth as she spoke. —Maybe Liu would come...

—You're not real! I killed you with my own hands!

—Oh, little Jeffy, you'll never get rid of me. I will always be with you. My blood will be on your mouth. No matter what you do, you will always have my nose, my eyes and my smile...

—Oh, yeah? Guess fucking what? All the things you mentioned have, CHANGED.— He shouted to the delirious product of his twisted, retorted imagination. —You're not real! Do you hear me?! I killed you! And it was the most funny thing I have ever done!

Jeff laughed manically. He wasn't scared anymore. He wasn't scared by the things he had done, by the things he could do.

Suddenly, he heard a voice.

—Hello, little brother.— It was Liu's voice.

Jeff didn't even bothered in turning around. He stood still, hearing the babbling of Liu.

—You aren't real. I killed you. I fucking killed you!

—Guess what, prick? I survived. That's why you can't see my tomb.

 _«Impossible._ _That's_ _fucking_ _impossible. I_ _killed_ _you, Liu._ _You're_ _dead.»_

Jeff finally turned, just to see something he believed was impossible.

It was Liu. All his face was sewed and stitched here and there. He sure was older. And there was something...something in his eyes.

Grief. Rage. Desolation.

—I survived, Jeffy. And I swear to god, that I won't kill you this time, because we're in front of our parents. But if I ever see you again, you're **dead**.

And as fast as he came, Liu was gone again.

What was it? Was it the real Liu Woods? His ghost, returning from the other side to punish him? A memory? A product of his messed up head?

No. LIU WAS DEAD.  
He was fucking sure.

—Impossible! Impossible, asshole! You are dead! You want to see it?! Let me show you!

And Jeff started to dig again on the dirt. He then broke the tombstone of his father, scratching it until his fingers were bleeding. The tombs were red. The earth and the dirt were red.

He digged, and digged and _digged_ but saw nothing. Just the cold body that belonged to Peter Woods.

Jeff left the cemetery and went to search for a place to sleep. He found an abandoned cabin on the woods.

And that night, he experimented lucidity firsg since he became Jeff the Killer.

He realized for a moment, that he was a _monster_.

He realized that the only thing filthy in him wasn't his fingernails, full of blood. But his fucking mind and sould were filthy, a kind of filth that would never leave.

He couldn't wash the dirt and blood between his fingernails anymore. He'll never clean them.

He was a fucking **monster** , he had no heart or soul.

He didn't care anymore.

He was Jeff the Killer.

He didn't get hurt.

He hurted.

Author's Note: If you find any grammaticalmistakefeelfreetocorrectme,englishisnotmymothertongueand Ineedpractice.

Feedbackisalwayswelcomed, don'tforgettoaddacommentif youlikedthis!


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